


Secrets

by deansdreamgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansdreamgirl/pseuds/deansdreamgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz just wants to go to the bar and drink away her awful day. But she meets a handsome stranger there, and doesn't expect what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tough Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fabric!! Please leave me your comments and criticisms, but please don't kill me if this is terrible!!

"Bottle of good whiskey and a glass please, Matt." A shapely brunette leaned on the bar and smiled at the bartender, who pulled out a whiskey bottle and a glass. "That bad a day, huh, sugar? You wanna talk about it, Jazz?" Matt poured her first drink, then slid the drink and the bottle over to her. "Nope, just wanna drink it away, Matt. I just wanna drink it away, " she said as she downed the first drink and poured another. 

Well, I guess today could have been worse, she thought. At least this time you didn't pass out. You really need to get that under control.

"Slow down girl, or you are gonna have to crawl outta here." Jasmine turned to see mischievous green eyes watching her. Attached to those eyes was a handsome scruffy face with spiky dirty blonde hair and and a strong jaw that housed a husky voice. "Want some company?"

"Honey, I can hold my liqour much better than you seem to think," Jasmine said before knocking back the rest of the glass. "Company is fine as long as you shut up and drink." She turned around and poured herself another drink. "Hey Matt, can my friend here get a drink? An appletini maybe?" Jasmine eyed the stranger with a smirk. 

"Ha ha ha," he said sarcastically as he sat down next to her. "Whiskey is fine, thanks. So, what's your name?" 

"Jasmine. Everyone calls me Jazz. And yours?"

"Name's Dean. So what are we trying to forget?" Jazz turned and raised an eyebrow to the stranger. "In my experience, that's the only reason a beautiful girl like you would be sitting at a bar with an entire bottle of whiskey alone. Work, family, or boyfriend?" Dean probed, emphasizing the last word.

"Work. Family and boyfriend are non-existent." With that, Jazz tossed back another drink. She was feeling fuzzy around the edges finally after a few drinks, so she didn't mind much talking to Dean. After the day she had, he was a pleasant distraction from the memories of the bloody victims at the hospital she had been treating all day. Especially the one with the giant vampire bite on her neck, which meant she would have to begin her other work soon: tracking down the vamp nest and killing them all. Being a triage surgeon was the perfect way for Jazz to keep tabs on any monster activity in the area, plus it gave her an edge when dealing with other hunters. She could treat them and send them on their way without there being a record of it, which is very desirable in that line of work. Now, to just figure out where that nest is...

"Earth to Jazz. You wanna talk about what's on your mind? You're thinking awfully hard over there." Dean chuckled as he poured and downed his own drink. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about work. Rough day at the hospital today, and it's going to be a long weekend." Just thinking about the coming weekend made Jazz want to drink the rest of the whiskey straight from the bottle.

"The hospital? You a nurse or something?" Dean asked, eyeing her carefully. She was starting to lean a bit on the bar, telling him she would be unsteady on her feet if she got up.

"A surgeon. We were pretty busy the past week with lots of animal attacks. 25 in all. 10 were pronounced dead at the scene. Wildlife experts think a pack of wolves migrated here looking for food," she answered. Yeah, right, wolf attacks. Civilians are so gullible! 

"Wolf attacks huh? Sounds dangerous. Maybe we picked a bad time to vacation here." Dean finished his drink and pushed the glass away. Definitely need to keep my senses about me. Sammy only found articles on 12. 

"We?" Damn, I knew it was too good to be true. No way a gorgeous drink of water like him is still single. Definitely works out. Jazz threw back one last drink and pushed the half empty bottle and her glass across the bar. I should have eaten more tonight. That whiskey is really hitting me hard.

"My brother Sammy and I. We wanted to take a break from work and do some sight-seeing. He's back at the motel waiting for me." He scanned the bar, noticing a man walk in and sit in a corner booth. He purposely took a booth that gave him a direct view of where they were sitting. He made eye contact with Matt the barkeep, who nodded at him, then to Dean and Jazz. Dean immediately shifted his weight and slid his hand down toward the gun at the small of his back.

"Well honey, it was nice talking to ya, but I need to make my way home if I'm going to make it to work tomorrow." Jazz winked at Dean, then stood up and grabbed her purse. He definitely liked her slight southern drawl. It was much stronger now that she had been drinking. She put $50 on the bar for her whiskey and a tip, blew Matt a kiss, and turned to leave. She took a step and almost fell before Dean reached out and grabbed her

"Easy there, Jazz. Can hold your liquor better than I think, huh? Let me help you. You definitely can't drive like this. I'll call you a cab," Dean smirked at Jazz, and helped her walk outside. The man in the booth watched them walk all the way outside, then got up to follow.

"I think I can stand on my own. Thanks for your help. I don't know what's wrong. I shouldn't be this drunk," Jazz slurred. She pulled out her phone to call a cab. What the hell?? There is no way I should be this bad off that whiskey. I never -

"Jazz? Jazz! What's wrong??" Dean knelt down to check Jazz for injuries. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, her knees had buckled, and she just collapsed, smashing her head on the corner of the building. Blood started to pool under her head from a gash near her temple. WelI shit, I can't just leave her here. Guess the search will have to wait until morning.

Dean checked for a pulse and breathing, then lifted Jazz to his chest and carried her over to his Impala. I need to get her back to the bunker so I can stitch up her head. He laid her across the backseat and placed his jacket over her. Just as he was closing the door, the man from the booth approached him. "You better just keep moving buddy. Tonight is not your lucky night," Dean said, flashing his gun. 

"Oh, but I think it is. I get 2 for 1 tonight," the man said as he bared his fangs. "And I'm hungry."

"And I'm just looking for an excuse to off sons of bitches like you." Dean snatched his machete off the backseat floorboard, spun around, and sliced the vampire's head off. He wiped the blood off on the dead vamp's pants, then walked around and climbed in the car. He absentmindedly rubbed his right arm before starting the car. Kill kill kill kill he heard along with the rushing of blood in his ears. It was getting harder and harder to keep his blood lust in check. With a deep breath, he looked into the backseat to check on Jazz, who was still passed out, then drove off. "It would be best to let her sleep off whatever drugged her somewhere safe. Guess we got us a house guest tonight." Dean mumbled to himself as he headed off to the bunker to turn in for the night.


	2. Back at the Bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz wakes up in the bunker with the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first fanfic!!! Please leave me your comments and criticisms, just please don't kill me if this is terrible!

"Usually you don't bring unconscious ones home," Sam teased when his brother walked in holding Jazz in his arms.

"Shut up Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes. "I met her at the bar and there was almost a vamp attack. They've started drugging their victims." Dean lifted Jazz slightly to emphasize his point. "She was almost vamp food. I'm going to get her settled in to sleep it off." 

Dean walked down the hallway to his room and laid her on his bed. He pulled off her shoes and socks, and grabbed the stitching supplies from the bathroom. He grabbed some ice from the freezer and needle and thread to stitch up the gash. He poured some rubbing alcohol on a rag and dabbed her head clean. He stitched her up, then stripped her bloody shirt off and dressed her in one of his shirts. He tucked her in, then pulled a chair up to the edge of the bed so he could keep an eye on her. After a fall like that, he wanted to make sure she was all right. Must be having one helluva dream, Dean watched her face and limbs twitch intermittently. I guess we all have our own nightmares to deal with. 

 

A loud scream jerked Jazz to consciousness. Grabbing the pistol from under her pillow, she jumped out of bed and ran down the hall. Oh God no. Not Lilli's room. Please! I thought we finally escaped from him. How did he find us?! Please no. Flinging the door open, she stared in horror as a monster stood over her 10 year old daughter's bloody body, chewing away at her heart. "Lilyana! What the hell!?!" Jazz screamed as she rushed the monster, firing off round after round until her weapon clicked, the magazine empty. The monster, looking half human and half wolf, jumped out the window, startled at the sudden barrage of bullets. Jazz rushed to her daughter's lifeless body, sobbing and screaming.

 

"Lilyana!!" Jazz screamed and sat up in bed. She had that nightmare again. She was covered in sweat and completely disoriented. Tears were streaming down her face. 

"Shit!! Are you okay??" Dean was startled by her sudden outburst, and leaned towards her. He grabbed her arms to get her attention. She looked at him with the blank expression of someone who isn't registering everything that is happening. 

"My name is Dean. We met tonight at the bar. We walked outside and you were almost attacked, so I brought you here to keep you safe." Dean sat next to her on the bed and explained what had happened to her. Jazz just wrapped him in a hug, curled up against him with her head on his chest, and started crying. 

"My baby!" she sobbed. Dean had no idea what to do, so he just held her and let her cry. Finally, after about 20 minutes of her sobbing, she fell back asleep. Dean ended up falling asleep with her wrapped in his arms until the morning.

Dean woke up the next morning to Jazz still sleeping on his chest. He thought she looked so peaceful sleeping, and he didn't want to wake her after the nightmare she had the night before. 

About 15 minutes later, she opened her eyes, and sat up immediately when her eyes met Dean's. "Where am I? What happened last night?" she asked frantically. Too many times, she had woken up in strange places from her condition. Damn it! When are these fucking panic attacks going to stop?!?

"Calm down Jazz. I'm Dean. We met last night at the On Call. You had too much to drink and couldn't drive, so I brought you here to sleep it off. You passed out walking to my car and hit your head on the building," he explained. "You were having a nightmare, and I tried to calm you down. You hugged me and wouldn't let me go, so I stayed with you last night. Nothing happened other than that."

"Oh." Thank God! Jazz looked over at Dean. laying shirtless in her bed with only his sweat pants on. "Shame. I would definitely brag about this one." She looked him up and down, then winked.

"Well, it's still early. We can always give you something to brag about," Dean joked as he got up. He stood up and threw on a shirt. "Who's Lilyana?" Dean asked, watching Jazz for a reaction. Jazz snapped around to look at him.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said as she turned away from him.

Still a bit disoriented from her nightmare, Jazz rubbed her eyes and stood up. Her head was pounding, and the nausea hit her suddenly, making her drop down to her knees and vomit in the trash can beside the bed. "Hey now, slow down. Take it easy. You had way too much whiskey last night. And that bump on the head didn't do you any favors either." Dean helped her up and back onto the bed. "Relax. I'll go get you some crackers and ginger ale."


	3. Time to Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam leaves for a case and Dean is left at the bunker with Jazz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first fanfic!!! Please leave me your comments and criticisms, just please don't kill me if its terrible!!!

Finally having a moment alone, Jazz sobbed into her pillow. "I'm so sorry baby girl. I tried to hard to keep you safe! We were finally away from him, and then that damned monster took you from me. I will find it and kill it for you. I promise I won't stop looking until I kill it for you!" I wonder how much longer these panic attacks are going to be so bad, she thought to herself once she had composed herself a bit. First mom and dad with their hunts and using me as bait, then Michael's abusive ass, and lastly, the werewolf that killed my daughter...how much longer before I can get a handle on this PTSD and the panic attacks?!?

Dean walked out to the kitchen and went to start some coffee, only to see Sam already hard at work on his laptop and the coffee pot full of freshly brewed java. "Anything good going on?" Dean asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and Jazz a cup of ginger ale. He grabbed both cups and some crackers and walked into the front, leaning on the door frame and sipping his coffee.

"Nothing yet, but I'm still looking. Where's the girl?" Sam asked. "Laying down. She's in bad shape. I'm on my way to bring her these," Dean said as he held up the crackers. Sam nodded and went back to his laptop.

Dean walked down the hallway and back into his bedroom. Jazz had fallen back to sleep already, clutching her pillow to her tear-stained face. Dean set the ginger ale and crackers on the nightstand next to her, then walked back into the front. "They gave her something strong," Dean said, shaking his head with a look of concern on his face."She's back asleep again. She probably needs all the rest she can get after that nightmare last night."

"What nightmare?" Sam asked. Both he and Dean have their fair share of nightmares - between going to hell and being tortured by demons (or in Sam's case, Lucifer himself), going to purgatory, dying and being brought back - there was plenty to have nightmares about, and for Dean to looked concerned over one, it had to be a bad one.

"I dunno. She didn't want to talk about it, but she woke up screaming for someone named Lilyana, saying it was her baby. I asked her this morning who it was, and got the death stare. I wonder if she meant baby as infant baby, or baby as in girlfriend," he mused. "So whatcha got Sammy? Anything new on those 'animal attacks'?" He rubbed his right arm where the Mark of Cain sat. 

"Nothing new, other than the beheaded body from last night. We should probably go and start the usual round of interviews and information gathering." Sam shut the laptop and got up. "Meet you at the car in 15?"

"Actually Sammy, you think you can handle that on your own? I would rather not leave a stranger in the bunker alone. We don't know anything about her, and the last thing we need is someone to sabotage the place while we're gone," Dean said as he stood up and stretched. "Besides, I'm not feeling to social right now. After last night, I just wanna kill something."

"Sure Dean. You sure you're okay? I can wait until later, or ask Cas to come stay with you." Sam gave Dean that all too familiar look of concern barely concealing the fear of what Dean would do if the Mark took over. He remembered vividly the things Dean did as a demon, and how adamant after being cured he was about being killed instead of becoming a demon again. And although he and Cas had agreed to "put him down" if Dean ever went dark again, Sam honestly felt that neither of them could hold up the promise if that actually happened.

"Yes Sammy, I'm fine. Just rather leave the research to the college boy." Dean smirked as he strolled into the kitchen. He damned sure wouldn't let Sam know how hard it was getting to control to Mark and the urge to kill that came with it. Even now, he could still hear a voice in the back of his mind, whispering "Kill, kill, kill!" Sam always got that scared look on his face when he would ask if Dean was ok. Dean just hadn't figured out yet if it was fear of the Mark, or fear of Dean himself. 

"If you're cooking, can you at least make me a sandwich for the road, jerk," Sam called. He started to gather up the information he needed to head out to the crime scene.

"I guess so, bitch," Dean retorted. He put together two sandwiches, then put one in a paper bag for Sam. He grabbed a marker from the counter and wrote "bitch" on it at the top. He then brought his sandwich and the bag to the table and sat down. He leaned his chair back and kicked his feet up on the table. Sam emerged from the hallway about ten minutes later, dressed in a suit and tie with his gear in a backpack slung over one shoulder. 

"Really? Real mature Dean," Sam muttered as he snatched up the bag and headed to the garage. Dean chuckled as he finished his sandwich. 

"What's so funny?" Dean jumped up and wheeled around, knife out and ready to strike. "Whoa! Okay no questions. I got it. Sorry I asked," Jazz said. She had jumped onto a defensive stance with her hands up, ready to spar. Dean put away his knife when he realized it was Jazz. She lowered her hands, one of them instinctively moved toward the blade she kept strapped to her leg on hunts. The movement was not lost on Dean.

"You gotta warn people next time! You feeling better, lady?" Dean carefully relaxed his stance, but kept a watchful eye on her movements. This lady is combat trained. Wonder why a surgeon needs that kind of training. 

"Still a bit foggy, but much better than this morning. Do you have any water?" She walked to the table, stood with her back to the kitchen and quickly scanned the room for any threats or exits that were visible. Jazz also sized up Dean. Muscular body, covered in a tight short sleeved black shirt, worn jeans, and combat boots. A red mark on his right arm told Jasmine all she needed to know. He was the infamous Dean Winchester. 

"Yeah, I'll be right back." Dean walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, then quickly and quietly walked back into the room behind her. He touched the cold bottle to her arm. She snapped around arms raised and ready to attack immediately.

"Right. Wanna tell me why you have combat training? Last time I checked, that wasn't a requirement for medical school." Dean cautiously stepped around her and placed her water bottle on the table.

"Oh, well, I, uh, t-took a self-defense class. Six months ago." Jazz lied, looking at Dean. Damnit Jazz, you need to think much faster on your feet!! 

"Sure, and I just got back from ballet class. Can we cut the bullshit?" Dean leaned against the kitchen doorframe and crossed his arms. 

"Well, I guess, if you are going to do the same. I know very well that there is no way I was as drunk as you claim off the little amount of whiskey I drank last night. So, you tell me what really happened last night - the truth - and I'll tell you what you want to know. Your call." Jazz pulled out a chair and sat down.

Dean smirked. "If you knew the truth of what happened last night, you would turn and run screaming from here. But ok, I'll entertain your little game. Who are you really, and why do you have combat training? You spill first sweet cheeks." 

"Fine. My name is Jasmine Rodriguez. I'm a trauma surgeon. And I think you know very well why I have combat training, Dean Winchester. I'm a hunter. I also serve to stitch up other hunters that pass thru here. I'm surprised I haven't seen you and Sam before now." Its a shame too. I have also heard he is famous for a good tumble in the sheets, and I could definitely use one. And God does he look good. Those strong arms, piercing eyes, and those lips...

Suddenly, Jazz became aware the Dean was watching her intently. She then realized she had been staring at him, inside her own thoughts. Shit, how long was I letting my mind wander? She averted her eyes to the table and licked her lips nervously. She could feel the blush creep up to her cheeks. "So, I held up my end. What really happened last night?"

Dean was still processing what she had told him: she was a hunter. She knew who he and Sammy were, and about their family business. He also noticed how she stared at him, lost in her thoughts. He saw the lustful yearning cross her face as her eyes roamed over him, finally stopping at his mouth. He had already sized her up at the bar. Athletic build, nice bust and butt, and a pretty face. It was her eyes that made him approach her. A gorgeous honey brown that he could stare into for hours. Sharp eyes that noticed and recorded everything. He continued to study her until she raised her face to meet his gaze again. She looked at him expectantly. Dean chuckled. "So a hunter, huh? Well, last night you were drugged at the bar and almost ended up vamp food. I took care of the vamp and brought you back here. Now, one last thing I need to know," he said, walking up to her and standing behind her. He bent down close to her ear and breathed, "what were you just thinking about before you caught yourself?"

Jazz's pulse started to race, and she shivered from his body heat. He smelled of whiskey, car oil, body wash, and leather. She closed her eyes to focus and gather her thoughts. Dean brushed her hair to one side, away from her neck. She twitched as his fingers brushed against her neck. He leaned down, barely brushing her neck with his lips. "Was it something like this?" He leaned down and kissed her neck, grazing it with his teeth. She gasped at the kiss, her breathing beginning to come faster. He continued to trail his tongue and teeth up and down her neck.

"K-k-kind of," she stammered. "But-but we should pr-probably keep this a s-s-strictly professional rela-ah!" She yelped as he bit her neck, feeling her pulse jump. She pushed herself up on the table and turned to leave. "I-i-i sh-should be g-going. The hospital m-may n-n-need me....." she trailed off as Dean came up behind her and grabbed her hips. He growled deep in his throat as he pressed her ass into him, and she could feel him growing inside his jeans. 

"You're not going anywhere," he spun her around and gripped her chin with his hand. He brought his mouth to hers, ghosting above her lips, teasing her. He could see her pupils dilating with lust. He smirked, knowing he had her. 

Jazz stared at Dean's face, so close his features were blurred. All except his eyes. Those piercing green eyes that commanded her to do anything he told her to; that she could feel herself getting lost in. She battled with herself for a minute - should she or shouldn't she - until she finally gave in. She rose up on her toes and met his mouth. He stilled with surprise for just a second, then threaded his fingers thru her hair and tugged, letting her know he was in charge. She was all too glad to submit and allow him to dominate her. Secretly, that had always been her biggest turn on: a man who is dominant in the bedroom. And a man who was not afraid to be rough. A little pain mixed with the pleasure made it all that much more enjoyable. 

Dean hiked her up onto the table, pulling back on her hair to allow him more access to her neck. She moaned as he bit down on her throat, sucking to leave a passion mark. Her breathing was ragged as he trailed his way down her neck to her chest. He grabbed his hunting knife from his boot and pulled on her shirt. Her breath hitched in her throat when she felt the cold steel on her stomach. In one swift motion, he sliced her shirt and bra, then threw them to the floor. He tugged his own shirt over his head. He roughly squeezed her breasts as he returned to conquer her mouth. He slid one hand down between her legs and rubbed over her yoga pants. Her breathing hitched again, and he could feel her starting to soak thru her pants. He continued lazily rubbing her until she began bucking her hips, begging for more. 

"Is that what you want baby? You want me to finger you?" He asked her, watching her squirm and buck her hips. She leaned up and bit his lower lip. "Please," she whined, bucking her hips into his hand. She could feel her release building, and it had been quite a while since some had been able to make her cum like this. Dean pulled her off the table to strip her of her pants. Once they were off, he placed her back on the table. Seeing her completely naked and flushed with arousal was almost enough to make him lose control. He ran his fingers over her exposed clit. She moaned and bucked her hips into his hand. Dean smirked and dove a finger inside her slit. She gasped at the sudden intrusion. He moved his finger slowly in and out a few times, then added another. He moved them at a slow pace, watching Jazz writhe in pleasure and buck her hips, wanting more. He knelt down in front of her and flicked her clit with his tongue. She threw her head back, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her. He continued to work her with his hand and tongue, curling his fingers to stroke her g-spot. He could feel her breathing become labored, see the desperation in her movements to bring her to her climax. He loved seeing her like this - she would do anything he wanted. He turned his head and bit down on her inner thigh hard enough to leave a mark. That was her undoing. She cried out and her whole body tensed. "Dean! I'm cumming! Dean!" She screamed as he sucked her clit, prolonging her orgasm. He kept fingering her, watching her come down from her climax. Her face and body were bright red with arousal. 

Dean stood up and stripped off his jeans and boxers. His cock sprang to attention, the tip slick with pre-cum. Jasmine slid off the table pushed Dean into a chair. "My turn," she said with a grin, knelt in front of him. She teased the tip with her tongue, enjoying his groans and growls. She looked up at Dean with her best bedroom eyes, then took all of him in her mouth. Dean growled deep in his throat as she hollowed out her cheeks and began to suck. Her grabbed a fistful of her hair to help control her head. 

"Yessss, Jazz, oh my God. Your mouth feels so fucking good," he groaned. She sped up her tempo, massaging his balls as she deep-throated his entire manhood. His breathing became quick and labored, and his growls came from deep in his throat. Suddenly, he yanked up on her hair, pulling her completely off his cock and crushing her mouth to his. His pupils were completely blown with need as his hands roamed roughly over her body as he cupped her ass and lifted her off her feet. He backed her up into a wall, slamming her back against it to help himself get better leverage. He positioned himself under her hips and drove into her. He had to take a second to allow her body to accommodate his size, then started to set a fast pace. She threw her head back into the wall, bucking her hips and pushing him deeper into her with every thrust. He crushed his mouth onto hers, hard enough that she tasted blood. She didn't care. "Yes! Harder! Dean!" He grabbed her hips, sat down, and laid back. He gripped her hips so tight she could feel bruises forming under his fingers and his nails digging into her skin. He thrust into her while forcing her hips down, hitting her g-spot every time and making her see stars. She could feel another orgasm begin to rack her body with pleasure. She threw her head back, dug her nails into Dean's thighs, and rolled her hips to push him even further inside her. "Fuck, Dean, I'm c-" she before choked out before she screamed out in pleasure as the orgasm tore thru her body. 

Dean seeing her like this - so primal, so animalistic - was almost too much for him. He could feel the orgasm coiling in his stomach. He continued to pound into her, watching her match him thrust for thrust, each one driving them both closer to climax. Dean sat up and gripped her shoulders for more leverage. He bit down on her throat again and was rewarded by another scream of pleasure from Jazz. She dragged her nails down his back as she rode him, enjoying every inch of him. She could feel his breathing becoming erratic as she felt a third climax coming. He grabbed her hair and yanked it back to expose her throat. He bit down on her throat as he thrust deep into her, driving her over the edge. Her walls constricted around him, pushing him to climax as well. They both rode out the orgasms clinging to each other, then collapsed onto the floor panting and completely spent. She rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her ass lightly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. There was only one thing other than killing that satisfied the Mark, and it was definitely satisfied. That voice was finally silent for the moment. 

They lay like that for a bit, each lost in their own little world. "Been wanting to do that since last night," Dean said finally after bringing his attention back to Jazz. He stroked her hair. "But I have a very strict rule about not sexing up unconscious women." That earned him a laugh. 

"I would hope so. I would have been very disappointed to have missed that." Jazz traced his anti-possession tattoo with her finger. "I have one too." She rolled onto her back and pointed to her left hip, displaying her tattoo. Dean also noticed on her right hip a butterfly tattoo with the name Lilyana Marie.

"So, who is Lilyana?" Dean asked, watching her.

"Someone from my past," was the only answer she gave him.

"An ex-girlfriend maybe?" Dean raised an eyebrow, digging further.

"No, but I'm sure you would love to imagine that," she smirked, then stood up to retrieve her pants and underwear. "How about some breakfast? And a shirt, since you destroyed mine?"


	4. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz cooks breakfast for her and Dean, then they share some information about their pasts.

She rounded the corner of the kitchen and headed to the fridge. She found eggs, ham and bacon in it, and bread on the counter next to it. She rifled thru the cabinets and drawers to find the pans and cooking utensils and started cooking breakfast. Dean leaned against the door frame watching, smiling to himself at how comfortable she seemed cooking in a stranger's house.

She chopped the bell peppers and tossed them into the eggs. She looked up and noticed Dean staring. "You gonna help, or you just gonna stand there?" she asked with a smirk. Dean grinned and walked over to her. He handed her a plaid button down and put bread in the toaster. They both finished serving themselves and brought their plates into the front room and Dean threw a vinyl on the turntable.

"I love Deep Purple!!" Jazz said as she stood up to sway her hips and hummed "Smoke on the Water". Dean chuckled. They sat and ate their breakfast in silence, enjoying Deep Purple and savoring the food. 

"So, what got you into hunting?" Dean asked.

"Well, my parents were hunters, so I kinda just followed into the family business. My parents were bad ass hunters. I just wish I was half as good as them. They tried to train me, but I was always in the way...so eventually I had to teach myself. What about you?" Jazz said, looking at the floor. Too bad they were too busy using me as bait instead of training me, Jazz thought back to that day.

"A demon killed my mom when I was 4 and Sammy was a baby. My dad kinda lost it after that, obsessed with finding what killed her. He dove into the world of hunting, and took Sammy and I along for the ride. He started taking me on hunts with him when I got a bit older and could handle myself against the monsters." Dean had a far away look in his eyes as he talked about it. Remembering the days when hunting was simpler.

They finished breakfast and started to clean up the dishes. Dean came up behind Jazz and slipped his arms around her waist. Jazz smiled and leaned back into him, enjoying his firm and chiseled frame pressed against her back. Dean slipped a hand up her ribs, and Jazz jerked away from him and tried to stifle her giggle. "So you're ticklish??" Dean smirked and quickly reached for her ribs with both hands. She squeaked, and tried to run away, only to find herself in a headlock by Dean. He tickled her mercilessly, and to begin with, Jazz squirmed and laughed. Then all of a sudden her heart rate skyrocketed, she couldn't breathe, and the room started spinning. Dean noticed her movements changed from playful to frantic and released her. She collapsed on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest, a panicked look on her face. Dean reached out to touch her face, and she cringed away, looking at him with wide fearful eyes.

"Please don't hurt me, Michael. I promise I'll do whatever you want," she hugged her knees closer. "Just tell me what you want me to do." Jazz rocked slightly back and forth, shivering in fear. Her heart was trying to beat out of her chest, and she could barely breathe. Not again. I thought I got away. I'm so stupid. I can never truly get away from him. I just hope he doesn't kill me this time. 

"Jazz! Hey, Jazz! Snap out of it! Who's Michael?" Dean shouted. He grabbed her arms and shook her. She let out a broken sob at his touch and tried to shrink away from him. "Damnit Jazz! What the hell?!" Dean sat there, frozen and staring at the sobbing, shaking, mess in front of him. He felt anger rising up in his throat focused on this Michael person she kept talking about. What the hell did he do to her, and for how long? And where was he now? "Hell with it," Dean said as he wrapped his arms around her tightly and whispered in her ear, "Shhhh. Its okay, Jazz. Michael is gone. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him." The last part was more of a growl, his anger betraying his feelings toward abusive men.

Jazz could feel strong arms around her and thought, Here it comes. Her breathing became more erratic, and she could feel the blackness at the edge of her vision creeping in. At least I won't feel it until later, she thought bitterly. A few minutes later, she let the darkness close in and take her.

Dean felt Jazz suddenly go limp and her breathing start to slow. He leaned up to see her head on her knees. "Jazz?" He slowly loosened his arms and touched her cheek with his. No movement. I don't know what the hell that was, but at least its over. Dean gently lifted Jazz and walked her back to his bedroom. He laid her in the bed then laid next to her, wrapping his arms around her. "You don't have to be afraid anymore Jazz. I'll protect you," Dean whispered to her. He had to focus to ignore the Kill Kill Kill echoing in his mind and the burning Mark on his arm. He pulled Jazz closer to face him and tightened his arms, trying to make her feel as safe as possible. As her breathing returned to normal, Dean felt himself drifting off to sleep.

Jazz awoke with a start, barely able to move. Someone had their arms wrapped tightly around her, making it impossible to get out of bed. She tried to pull away, but the arms tightened even more. Then she remembered. She had another panic attack. She must have passed out. She squirmed again, and the arms tightened again. A voice above her head mumbled quietly, "Shhhh its okay baby. I'll protect you. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."

She smiled and burrowed deeper against the warm chest. She breathed in Dean's scent, calming herself. For the first time, she felt safe in a man's arms. She let herself fall back to sleep, cuddled up with Dean's strong frame.

Sam returned to the bunker after having been to the morgue to look at the bodies. He saw the dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast, but no one around. Walked down the hall towards his room and noticed Dean's door open. He peeked inside to see Jazz and Dean cuddled up together sleeping in the bed. He smiled and closed Dean's door.

Jazz woke up a little while later, still wrapped in Dean's arms. She smiled and kissed his neck. Dean twitched, so she kissed him again, sucking on his neck lightly. He groaned quietly and slid a hand down to squeeze her ass. Dean chuckled. "Ready for round 2?" He leaned down and captured her lips, slipping his tongue in her mouth. She pressed herself against him, reveling in how perfectly they fit together. 

Jazz giggled. "Honey, I'm in bad need of a shower first. And as much as I've enjoyed this, I need to get back home. I do still have a job, and I have to be at work at 8 am tomorrow morning." She stood up and stretched. "Show me where the shower is?"


End file.
